


Blue Lips

by iwaschosenfortheconstitutionalconvention



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cuddling, Dead Lover, F/M, I know it sounds bad but just give me a chance ok, Jealousy, M/M, More tags as the story goes on, Past Rape/Non-con, im trying my best I promise, scared of love, talking to themself, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaschosenfortheconstitutionalconvention/pseuds/iwaschosenfortheconstitutionalconvention
Summary: Alex gets cold and goes to none other than his commanding officer for help.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Alex shivered, pulling his blanket tighter around himself.

“Fucking hell.” He muttered, cursing the bitter cold that enveloped him and felt its way under the blanket despite his best efforts. It seeped into his clothes and caressed his every inch of skin, causing him to tremble violently. His blanket was more holes than actual fabric, since he’d been saving his thread for his coats and boots. He couldn’t afford to waste thread or time on this blanket.

-I’ll just wait until morning, then.- he thought to himself.

“What if I don’t make it until morning?” He asked no one. He shivered again, his teeth clacking together so loudly he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up his friends in the next tent over. Lafayette, Laurens, Jefferson...

Why did he pick having his own tent, when those three were probably toasty warm under their blankets?

He imagined them all sleeping together, cuddling and nuzzling and-

He shakes the thought out of his mind.

-you know why you can’t do that, right?- he asks himself mentally.

“Yeah, cause every fucking time someone touches me I panic. We know. Stop reminding me.” He whispers.

-why can’t you just let someone in, Alexander? What’s so wrong with being touched?-

It’s almost like his thoughts are a different person. It helps him forget about the cold.

“It might have something to do with-” he stops himself. He doesn’t want to think about that night now.

-with what, you coward?-

“Stop it.”

-tell me.-

“You’re me, dumbass, don’t you remember?” He almost says loudly enough for anyone to hear him.

-I do. You’re dying, Alexander.-

“I’m not.”

-your lips are blue, cheeks pink, nose frozen, breath visible. Make another argument.-

“I can’t do anything about that. It’s just how I look.”

-shut up and go get some help.- he thinks, more confident in his mind than in real life.

“I can’t, you idiot. I don’t feel like explaining.”

-George is in the next tent over. If you don’t want to go with your friends, you could at least ask him for help.-

“I can’t. It’d be unprofessional.”

-know what else is unprofessional? Dying. Go get some fucking help.-

“You do know warmth is transferred through touch, right? Touch. The one thing I don’t want.”

-Alexander, it’s that or possible death. George would be happy to help you.-

“I know!” He says, louder than he should. “I know. I can’t let him in.” He says, quieter.

-why not?-

He doesn’t answer himself.

-why not?-

“I don’t want to explain.”

~~~~~

_“No!” He struggled, knowing this wasn’t right even at the age of ten. He kicked and hit and fought but once his hands were tied there wasn’t much more he could do._

~~~~~

“I don’t want him to pity me.”

-YOU’RE DYING.-

“Fine by me!” Alex spat.

-it isn’t. Imagine how hurt everyone would be.-

“Eliza’s gone. My son is gone. My friends would learn to move on.”

~~~~~

_“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hamilton. We couldn’t save either of them.” The doctor had put a hand on his shoulder, and Alex was in such shock he didn’t even move._

~~~~~

-that’s how badly you’d hurt them. Now go. You’re going to die, Alex, what don’t you understand?!-

Alex reluctantly stood, wrapping what was left of his blanket around himself and walking out of his tent.

George had heard talking.

Alexander frequently talked to himself when he was scared.

So he was definitely ready for Alex to enter his tent at twelve in the morning.

“What’s wrong, Alexander?”

Alex suppressed a shiver.

“I’m cold.”

George sighed. “What do you need me to do?”

“I... I’d like to sleep with you.” Alex said, knowing how wrong it sounded.

“That’s fine. Come, it’s alright.”

“Thank you.” Alex said, and slid under the covers George was holding up.

He made a point not to touch George, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

“Alexander, you’re shaking the bed. Is that from you just shivering?”

Alex nodded. “Sorry.”

“Can... can I hold you?”

Alex froze, if it was even possible for him to do so more.

“Um...” Alex stammered.

“You’re going to catch a cold, Alexander, please, let me help you.” George said, turning over to face Alex.

-get over yourself.-

-I can’t!-

-he’s offering to help you, stupid. Let him.-

“Okay.” He finally says, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

George is a fucking furnace. Alex almost moans. How he wraps his arms around alex and just pulls his shaking form into his warm chest and he’s so _warm._

“Why didn’t you come here sooner? You’re so cold, I can feel you through my shirt.” George says, resting his chin on top of Alex’s head.

“I was thinking about it.” Alex forces.

-is this okay?-

-it’s not terrible. He’s warm. He feels like safety.-

-yeah. Now just keep calm. You’re gonna make it! Look at you go.-

He smiles to himself.

“Warming up?” Washington asks, not loosening his hold on the younger man. Alex doesn’t mind the closeness, for some reason.

“I am, actually.” Alex says quietly.

Washington is really trying.

Truly.

He hasn’t been held or held somebody in a while, either.

Or... relieved himself.

He wills himself to stay soft, knowing Alexander has problems he doesn’t talk about. He can’t do that to the boy. He’d make him leave. 

It’s so frustrating.

He’s finally getting to hold someone and his stupid self can’t just let one thing be platonic before getting attached to anyone who’ll let him hold them.

Alex finally drifts off, and nuzzles deeper into Washington than he should have.

George breaks. He pulls himself away from Alex, panicking, knowing the boy will think he’s some kind of pervert.

But then Alex whimpers at the loss of touch, and Washington is torn between possibly making his (favorite, but he won’t tell anyone) soldier cry, and keeping said soldier warm and happy.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter two

Alex, in search of warmth, presses himself back up against Washington, whose back is against the wall.

Oh.

Oh god.

He throws himself forward, panicking, and regrets ever coming to him for help.

The last time he’d seen a boner was... was when...

Washington hides his face in his hands, a childlike gesture nobody would have ever expected from him.

“Alex, I’m so sorry, I didn’t- it’s not you, I just..”

“Why.” Alex asks, monotone as if he was simply stating the word.

“I haven’t been, well, cuddled. In a long time. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I didn’t want to let you freeze, I didn’t know what to do.” Washington sits up, and keeps his distance.

Alex is sitting on the floor by the bed. “I.. I should explain, shouldn’t i.” He takes a deep

breath. “Most soldiers sharing a bed would understand. Maybe even offer to help you out, you know?” He shudders at his words. Or the cold. “It’s the contact.”

“Truly.” Washington agrees.

“Listen. I just need you not to think differently of me, when I’m done telling you what I have to tell you.”

“I wouldn’t. Unless you wanted me to.” He says. Alex makes himself comfortable on the floor and sighs, preparing himself to tell his deepest secret.

“When I was ten, I got separated from my mother at a little party our city was having.”

~~~~~

_“Mommy?” He’d said, sounding like a child. He was ten, and always pretended to be mature, but deep down sometimes he wished he could be younger._

_He heard footsteps come down the hallway he was walking down._

_He whipped around, panicking, as a large figure loomed before him. “We’ll help you find your mommy, it’s okay.” The man had said, and took his small hand, leading him into one of the rooms branching off of the hallway._

_If only Alex had noticed something was off when he walked in, he could’ve made it out and saved himself._

_The ropes on the headboard, the other men in the room, the white stains on the sheets... everything about that room screamed “get out while you can.” But he truly had believed they would help him find his mother._

_Up until one of them pinned him to the bed and the others tied up his hands._

_“What’s going on?!” He had yelled, and then one of them shoved a dirty sock in his mouth. Duct tape soon followed, and his muffled screams were too quiet for anyone to hear. One of them men locked the door and he was no match for four of them, especially when he was tied down and gagged._

_Once he heard one of their belts unbuckle, he realized what was about to happen. He had struggled, he really had. But one of them held a knife to his chest and he stopped, panicking, but all the man did was cut his shirt off. The other two wrestled his pants off, despite him kicking and screaming for help._

~~~~~

“Alex, oh my god.” George looked at Alex with terror in his eyes. “I... I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either, keep in mind.”

“They told me it was. That I should’ve stayed with my mother.” Alex looked down and let a tear slip from his eye, covering up his face with his hands. “I should’ve.”

“Alex. It’s not your fault. I understand why you panicked now, i should’ve been more considerate, I-”

“It’s fine, George.” He said, using his General’s _name._ not even higher ranking officers did that.

“You’re shaking.”

“It’s cold down here.” He stated, and leaned his head on the wall.

“Do you want to come back up?”

“If you’re not hard anymore.” Alex said, harsher than he’d meant to sound.

“I’m... I’m not.” Washington said, and Alex hesitated before crawling back up to his bed.

“Don’t treat me differently, okay?”

-damaged goods. That’s what he thinks you are.-

-SHUT UP!-

“I won’t. I promise.” Washington said, and opened his arms for Alex to crawl back into.

He did, resting his head on his chest, feeling extremely vulnerable in his night shirt and pants. He hadn’t bothered to dress up, since he was just going to George’s cabin.

George always knew Alex was hiding something, and now so many moments made sense to him.

The time he’d heard about Eliza and tried to reassure Alex with a half-hug and Alex stiffened and pulled away.

The time he’d seen Alex so cold he passed out face-down in the snow, while the other soldiers were sticking together and staying warm that way. He’d refused help and tried to get better by himself, just so no one would touch him, or see him when he was vulnerable.

The time he’d had to beg Alex to go to sleep, after doing his rounds and finding him awake and talking to himself faster than the speed of light.

Alex pressed his head up under George’s chin and rolled over, facing him, and got himself settled again.

George had to fight to keep from saying “aw.” The boy truly was adorable, but he’s his commanding officer. If he tells Alex how he feels, and Alex doesn’t feel the same way, the boy will simply say he feels the same way for fear of being replaced. (Which he would never do.)

George tentatively rests an arm over the boy’s waist.

Alex’s lips graze his neck, an accident, but it gives the older man... butterflies?

Alex is dead asleep, cuddling someone he shouldn’t be cuddling, and he knows he’s going to get attached and fall into a habit of needing.. whatever this was.

Safety. Security.

_Love?_

No.

-we’re not ready for that.-

-i know.-

Lafayette, two tents over, was lying on his back as John and Thomas rested their heads on his chest. His arms were over their shoulders, and each of them were on one side. He wonders if they can feel how fast his heart is beating.

John throws an arm over his chest, and Thomas tangles their legs together, and it’s too much for Laf.

He tries to move, so he can adjust himself, but neither of the other two want him to.

“Don’t move, Thomas is finally asleep.” John says. “That’s the only time he doesn’t fucking talk.”

“I guess you’re right.” Lafayette whispers back. He rubs John’s back with his hand and feels the heartbeat pressing against his side speed up.

Thomas mumbles something in his sleep, inaudible, but enough to make John suppress a laugh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter is filler chapter 
> 
> Lol
> 
> I got bored of this one, may do a sequel... don’t count on it tho, I’m tired

When George finally falls asleep, it’s around two in the morning. Alex is snuggled deep into his chest, and their arms are each resting over or under the other. Their legs are tangled together and bodies overall fitting like Tetris blocks. Perfectly in place, almost like they were meant to be that way.

Everyone is asleep at three, every single person in the camp. Lafayette, Thomas, and John ended up sleeping with Thomas, the tallest, behind Lafayette, middle height of the three, and John, cuddled up in front of Lafayette, as he was the shortest. (And utterly pissed about it.)

The snow falls thickly, falling silently all around the camp. The large pines bordering it defend them from attackers, but nobody can outrun the white, crystal blanket that covers everything in valley forge.

Washington is awake first, with Alex still there and asleep. Alex is breathing deeply, relaxed for the first time in a long time

He runs his hands through Alex’s hair, earning a happy sigh from the shorter man. Alex smiles in his sleep, and holds on tighter to George’s nightshirt.

George never wants to let him go.

He’s beautiful in sleep, eyes fluttering as he dreams, face finally relaxed, hair spread out all over the pillow. His limbs finally not tense, hands finally not moving all over a paper, splattered with ink.

“Thank you.” Alex says, looking his General in the eyes.

“Anytime. You can come back tonight, if you’d like.” He says, falling deeper into those dark eyes. His own warm amber ones sparkle in the early light, and Alex notices. Dark, with hints of hazel and amber and gold, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring until George blinks.

“Oh.” He mutters. George pulls him in again. “I should get going.” He says, noting that the other men will see him leaving the General’s cabin. He doesn’t want them to get the wrong idea.

“Well. If you ever need me, I’m here.” George says, sitting up and stretching with Alex. Alex takes a deep breath, then goes to kiss his cheek, as a sort of “thank-you” he learned from Lafayette. It was common in France, why not here?

But George turns his head to say something else and their lips meet, and neither of them pull away.

George kisses back, surprised but not disgusted, and pulls Alex closer to him. Alex lets him, finally feeling wanted. Safe.

Loved?


End file.
